Panicked wasn’t quite the right word to describe the congressman. I think stricken was a better descriptor. He had no idea what to do next. Congressman Bryant gave his assistant another look. She calmly took a step back and closed the double doors to the inner office.
The congressman staggered back and plopped into an overstuffed leather chair that looked like it had come from the White House.
I took an identical chair directly across from him. He still didn’t say much. He looked up at me for a moment but couldn’t meet my eyes. I was starting to wonder if his relationship with Emily had been serious. Serious enough for him to have done something drastic if it wasn’t going his way.
Finally, the congressman took a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry. You caught me a little off guard. I was very upset to hear they found Emily’s body. But I really can’t add anything to the investigation. We were just friends.”
“Nothing more?”
“Friends. That’s it. She listened. I liked her.”
I noticed the perspiration building around his eyes and forehead. He still fidgeted in the seat. But now he could at least look me in the face. I said, “I’d think a member of Congress could find a lot of women to listen.” That gave me the awkward, uncomfortable silence I was shooting for. I wanted to keep this guy off-balance. At least until I could figure out where he fit into this investigation.
Now the congressman looked at me and leveled his brown eyes. “Am I a suspect?”
“Should you be?”
That frustrated the congressman. He said, “I don’t think I like your tone.”
I gave him my own version of a friendly politician smile. Then I switched directions and said, “I don’t really give a damn. You’re not my congressman. And I’m trying to figure out who murdered my friend. You’re lucky I’m not screaming at you right now. Or maybe, if I used a nicer tone on TV, people might listen to me.” That had the effect I wanted.
The congressman rubbed his hands together. He took a long time to gather his thoughts. Finally, he said, “Is this interview confidential?”
“Absolutely.”
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“I was in the Boy Scouts for almost four months when I was twelve.”
The congressman just stared at me. He didn’t find me as amusing as I found myself.
I cleared my throat and used my best solemn voice. “I have never broken my word in twenty years with the New York City Police Department. Never. I’m not about to start now.”
He looked convinced. Then he said something I didn’t expect. “The first thing you should know is that I’m gay.”
Chapter 25
The old phrase crime of passion is one of the most accurate terms in homicide investigations. The congressman knew as well as any investigator that the absence of any romantic relationship greatly reduces the motives for homicide. He needed to show me he had no romantic interest in Emily, and I understood that need.
Now the congressman had regained a little of his composure. He said, “Look, Detective, I don’t advertise that I’m gay. I guess you’d say I’m not ‘openly gay.’ I think it could be hard on my career. But I want you to know that Emily was my friend. And that’s it.”
“Emily understood you were gay?”
“Yes, of course. I’m not ashamed of it. I just don’t think it’s anyone’s business but my own. I didn’t tell anyone when I was in the military, and I would prefer not to do it now.”
I said, “Did Emily share any secrets with you?”
“We might have different definitions of secret. But she confided in me on several private matters.”
“Was she involved with Justice Robert Steinberg?”
He hesitated. “She was cagey about that one. She had a relationship with Steinberg, but she didn’t talk about it. I think it was because she promised him not to talk about it. That’s how I knew I could trust that she wouldn’t tell anyone I was gay.”
“Was there anyone else she was involved with?”
“There is an oil lobbyist everyone knows. A guy named Donald Minshew. I met him a few times. It made my skin crawl to think that Emily ever saw anything in him. He’s a disgusting loudmouth. He’s a bully. Thank God Delaware doesn’t have enough oil for me to ever deal with him.”
“You think he’s capable of strangling Emily?”
“Hell, I have no idea. To be honest, I don’t see how he could’ve ever hurt her. She could’ve kicked his ass. You know how she was always working out. If nothing else, she could’ve run away. She was training for a marathon.”